A Cowboy To Keep. Karen Rock
“Where’s that lead?” He pointed at a yellow-painted wooden arrow that marked a new trailhead on their right.
“Coyote Ridge.”
He looked over his shoulder and glimpsed the pretty picture she made in her white tank top tucked into worn jeans, her braided red-gold hair grabbing every bit of light leaking through the forest canopy. The stubborn tilt to her chin caught his eye, as did her unabashed gaze. Cute was too small a word to describe a fierce woman like Dani, though it came to mind. Then again, he had no business deciding which word suited her best.
He slowed Pokey as they neared the opening. The trail sloped upward into denser forest then turned out of view.
She and the gray quarter horse pulled up on his left side and he angled his head to see her. Her big eyes swerved out from under his. Why the guilty flash in them? His instinct not to trust her the way the Mays did returned.
“It also goes to one of the old mine shafts,” she added offhandedly, her tone a little too casual for his taste. “They used to dig for copper here, and the railroad stopped on our property for it up until a hundred years ago.”
His shoulders tensed, his senses alert to every sound. His target could be hiding nearby, and he wouldn’t be caught unawares, especially with a woman present who could end up in the cross fire. Of course, Dani seemed more than able to defend herself, though he’d be sure never to put her in that position. “Let’s check it out.”
He’d already guided Pokey up the path when he heard her say, “But you need to know the orientation trail. It’s where we take guests on their first day.”
“I’ll study the map. Go ahead without me.” Pressing on, he guided his horse around a steep turn, hoping to leave his jabbering “boss” behind. He’d have no chance of surprising anyone if she was along chitchatting. More important, he wouldn’t risk putting her in danger.
An old mine shaft would make a good hideout, though its proximity to the trail made it doubtful Smiley would use it, unless he was dumb. And overconfident. And Jack liked dumb and overconfident. He liked that combination a lot. It made his job easier.
Hooves sounded behind him and Pokey looked backward and blew. Jack held in a sigh. Dani was turning out to be his hardest tail to shake. Resigned, he asked, “Does Smiley carry a .45?”
The path emerged into a grassy patch and she brought Storm up beside him. The heat waved the air around them. “I’ve never seen him touch a gun. He’s a nice guy. Responsible. Since he didn’t let me know he wasn’t working this season, I believe he’ll show up.”
“Let’s hope he does.” Jack pressed his knees into Pokey’s sides when the horse dropped his head to graze. The tall grass bent with each stride, leaving a trampled track in their wake.
“So, what? You’re just going to take him in...no questions asked?” Her expression was indignant.
He shrugged. “I’m not a detective or a judge.”
“You carry a gun.” She pointed at his plaid shirt, as though she could see the shoulder holster under it that held his Glock.
“Goes with the job.”
Her eyes traveled over him, making his pulse pick up. They passed out of the sunny spot and continued upward on the rocky track.
“But are you a good guy or a bad guy?”
“Let me know when you’ve figured it out. Been wondering that myself.”
He caught her head shake out of the corner of his good eye. “Irritating. You’ve got that part down.”
His lips twitched. “Was thinking the same about you.”
A huff escaped her and he flat-out grinned, enjoying this exchange too much.
“Tell me about Tanya.”
“Why do you ask?” Her voice rose, defensive. Was she protecting Tanya? Had Dani helped Smiley when he’d shown up at the ranch? He couldn’t rule out she just might be shielding them both.
“Her association with Smiley. How long has Tanya worked here?”
“Five years.”
“And Smiley?” He ducked under a low-hanging branch and breathed in the earthy smells of the spring forest.
“He was here before I started.”
“Did they meet here?”
Dani rode through a bright strip of sunshine and her hair turned to fire. “I believe so. Am I being interrogated?” Again, a defensive note sharpened her tone.
“Gathering information, is all.” He clenched his thighs, urging Pokey up another incline.
“So, are you from around here?” she asked, turning the tables. Rocks rolled beneath the climbing horses’ hooves.
“Carbondale.”
“Does your family live there?”
“Yes.”
“Who? Mother, father, siblings?”
His throat closed around his answer and his eyes watered slightly as he squinted up at the sun. “My brothers, sister and mother,” he said when he was sure of his voice. “My father died a few years back.”
“Sorry about that. My mother died ten years ago.”
He peered at her for a moment, absorbing her stoic expression, impressed by her quiet strength. “My condolences, as well.”
“She had breast cancer but didn’t tell anyone until the very end. My sister called me while I was touring with a show-jumping group and told me to hurry home. I arrived at the hospital half an hour after she passed.” Her voice sank lower and lower before dropping away completely.
They rode for a few minutes in silence as he thought of her loss. It’d been two years since his brother died, but the pain felt as fresh as a newly dug grave. “That’s tough.”
“You don’t realize how quickly everything can fall apart until it does,” she murmured, and her eyelashes swept her cheeks. “It makes you never want anything good ever again.”
He looked at her sharply, hearing his own thoughts come straight out of her mouth. It unsettled him, this connection he suddenly felt to her.
Time to return to easier topics. “Where are you from?”
“Texas. My father owns a bull ranch there. He’s been fighting to keep it after he had a stroke last year.”
“It’s hard giving up land.” He pulled up when a wild turkey darted across the path. Three more followed, necks outstretched, legs and feet a blur. With deep-throated cackles, they disappeared again in the rustling brush.
“I know.” She blew out her cheeks. “The doctor says Dad’s got to slow down and my sister, Claire, and her fiancé, Tanner, are there helping out. He quit bull riding to help save the ranch and they’re getting married in a few months.”
“Good man.”
“It’s not as simple as that.” She shooed away the swarming gnat cloud they’d entered.
“Nothing ever is.”
“Do you ever string more than five words together?”
“Yes.” He bit back a grin at her eye roll when he didn’t elaborate. Then he spotted a boarded-up entrance over a rocky outcropping. “Hey. There’s the mine.”
They pulled up, dismounted and tied up the horses. Wooden slats crisscrossed the space, but a couple had fallen off at the bottom. Could a man crawl in through there? Only one way to find out.
“What are you doing?” she hissed when he dropped to the ground and pressed his good eye against the opening. Light filtered through the cracks and